


The Thorn and the Rose

by Politzania



Series: Gentleman Avengers [2]
Category: Gentleman Bastard Sequence - Scott Lynch, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Crossover, M/M, Street Rats, Thievery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 21:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15782082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/pseuds/Politzania
Summary: Taken in by the Sisters of Mercy during a plague, Bucky has no memory of his family.  He runs away to join a street gang led by the Thiefmaker, and learns how to steal and beg, eavesdrop and blackmail.  Bucky befriends a suddenly orphaned shopkeeper's son, and finds himself attracted to one of the Thiefmaker's favorites - a bright, brash young man named Antonio.





	The Thorn and the Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Name of Piece: The Thorn and the Rose  
> Square Filled: A1 - Omniscient Narrator  
> Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark  
> Rating: Teen  
> Warnings: None for this chapter; violence and gore in future chapter.  
> Summary: Taken in by the Sisters of Mercy during a plague, Bucky has no memory of his family. He runs away to join a street gang led by the Thiefmaker, and learns how to steal and beg, eavesdrop and blackmail. Bucky befriends a suddenly orphaned shopkeeper's son, and finds himself attracted to one of the Thiefmaker's favorites - a bright, brash young man named Antonio. 
> 
> Also a fill for the WinterIron Bingo Adventure - I1 - Unmixy Things: Weird Crossovers

Bucky watched as Antonio (looking even more handsome than usual) executed the prettiest pocket dip he’d ever seen, all the while flirting outrageously with the woman who he was relieving of her coin purse. There was a quick flash of black velvet (spotted only because Bucky knew where and when to look) then Antonio bent low over the matron’s hand before bidding her farewell. Bucky wouldn’t have been the least surprised if, by the end of the evening, the woman would discover that she was missing a ring or bracelet as well. 

It was a perfect setup: a well-to-do crowd gathered for a pleasant evening of entertainment. Zola had dressed them up -- Antonio as a young noble and Bucky and Stefano as his servants -- and sent them in to not only lighten the pockets of the attendees, but to gather any bits of information that might be of interest. That was primarily Bucky’s role, as he had near-perfect recall; an irony given that he had no memory of the first third of his life. 

He had been found wandering the streets during the plague that swept through the Catchfire district ten years previous, a mere snot-nosed brat wailing for his mother. The Sisters of Mercy took the lost child in, nursing him through a full week of fever that wracked his small body, and addled his brain. The boy recovered his faculties, but the sickness had given him amnesia, stealing even his birth name from him. Taking him back through the neighborhood where he was found bore no fruit as he recognized nothing. The plague had killed three-quarters of the residents of the district, scattering the rest to the winds and no one ever came looking for a dark-haired, bright, yet solemn boy. 

Nicknamed Bucky for his oversized front teeth, he learned his letters and basic ciphering from the Sisters. They had him earn his keep by running errands, chopping wood and working in the garden, learning new skills as the seasons turned. But his grey eyes often seemed distant and clouded with sorrow and his laughs and smiles were brief and rare. 

While he always meant well, Bucky’s clever mind often let him astray; ideas meant to make life easier ended up being more trouble than they were worth and his plans rarely worked out quite the way he intended. He knew this was not the life he was supposed to have, but had no idea what his true destiny was, having lost his family and his memories so long ago. 

As he grew, he chafed at the rules the sisters had set him, and fell in with the wrong crowd, rough boys who stole sweets from the market, and stayed out till all hours. Seven years after the plague, news came that the Sisters were to return to their home order in Karthain, so Bucky packed his few belongings and slipped away to join his friends. 

The boys from the market, Diaspro and Roccia, took Bucky to their master. Based out of a warren of tunnels under Shades Hill, Thiefmaker Zola taught the street children he gathered to him to steal and spy, wielding them like weapons to gain power across the city. Bucky learned his lessons quickly and well, ghosting through crowds to snag a dangling coin purse or bit of jewelry; a stray comment or name dropped an equal prize to Zola. 

Bucky was equally elusive back under Shades Hill, hovering around the edges of the group of rambunctious children. Silent more often than not, he was always warily watching for what came next. For Zola insisted on order among his proteges, and Bucky quickly learned that order all too often comes through pain. 

His former friends had become his tormentors, enforcing the social structure within the group and demanding a cut of whatever earnings brought back to the gang as their due for providing 'protection'. Sometimes Bucky fought back, but it was usually easier just to give in. 

It was during one of the former encounters that an unfamiliar voice yelled, “Let him be!” All three of them were startled to see a strange boy staring at them, fists clenched. He was as big as Roccia, although clearly younger, and the fierce look in in his clear blue eyes took them all aback. 

“This is none of your business.” Diaspro spat. “Go on your way.” 

“I beg to differ and I will not go.” The boy’s voice was firm. “Release him or else.” 

The subsequent scuffle was brief, but memorable. Diaspro limped away, swearing, while Roccia sported a black eye as he fled down the tunnel. Bucky had gotten a few good licks in, but the new boy had carried most of the fight. Bucky eyed him suspiciously, fearing that he’d simply traded one set of oppressors for a new one. But the boy smiled brightly as he rubbed at his sore knuckles. 

“My name’s Stefano. What’s yours?” 

 

Stefano Rogelio was recently orphaned; his shopkeeper parents having perished in a fire, and a recent growth spurt left him somewhat ungainly and unaware of his own strength. Combined with his standoffishness and occasional bursts of temper, most of Zola’s gang gave Stefano a wide berth, But Bucky wasn’t so easily dissuaded, recognizing his companion’s quiet grief, and the two of them became best of friends. 

Stefano was literate as well, and even with his large seemingly clumsy hands, he was skilled at drawing, sketching buildings and crowd scenes on the slates that they used for their lessons. Bucky shared with Stefano how best to stay in the good graces of the Thiefmaster, and they had no further run-ins with Diaspro or Roccia, especially once Bucky had a bit of a growth spurt of his own that winter. 

Bucky was being groomed as a pickpocket as well as lookout; however, Stefano’s reticence was treated as dullness of mind and he was assigned the role of brute muscle. Bucky knew the potential in his boon companion, and passed along all the skills he himself was learning. Stefano was particularly adept in the teaser role, distracting the targets so the rest of the team could ply their trade. He would play the Fool, letting his eyes unfocus, and his body slump, mussing his hair into a blond bird’s-nest and mumbling nonsense phrases as he pushed through the crowd. 

There were two distinct groups in Zola’s clan - the Streets children, who begged and stole on a day to day basis, and the Houses children, older and more clever, who were entrusted to mix and mingle with society with the aim of burglary and blackmail. They received the best accommodations (such as they were) in Shades Hill, and always ate well, even if the Streets members did without. Graduating from Streets to Houses was the goal of many of the Thiefmaker’s apprentices, and Bucky was no exception. Especially after meeting Antonio. 

Bucky first saw the older boy, dressed in muted reds and golds, coming back from some sort of society event. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright as with wine, but his step was sure as his path led straight to the Thiefmaster’s quarters. He actually winked as he passed Bucky, hefting a bag that clinked and jingled. “A busy and successful evening. May you have the same.” 

When he asked another apprentice who that had been, her reply was a sneer. “The High and Mighty Antonio Belartigiano. He was supposed to be a priest, but botched the job so badly he ended up here. But his manners and his bearing make him more than qualified for Houses jobs, so he’s Zola’s pet, at least for now.” She looked Bucky up and down and smirked. “And from what I hear, you’re the right sort to get his attention.” 

Bucky stammered out a protest; but he did find himself attracted to Antonio. Not only was the older boy devastatingly handsome, his self-confidence and nonchalant air drew Bucky to him as well. There was surprisingly little known about Antonio; he’d appeared out of nowhere several months ago with the bare minimum of background, and while he was a very talkative sort, he deflected questions about himself with deft skill.

So Bucky watched and wanted from afar, keeping the object of his interest at a distance. Nevertheless, Mistress Fate must have smiled upon Bucky, as a fortnight later, Zola pulled him aside. “You, boy, I hear you’ve got quite a head for remembering things.” 

“Yes, sir.” Zola read off a string of numbers, and Bucky dutifully repeated them back. Zola then asked some questions about what he had done while living with the Sisters. Once Bucky had replied, Zola demanded that he repeat the numbers back, listening intently while staring at his slate. 

“Hmph. How are you at eavesdropping?” Bucky summarized a conversation he’d heard the day before where Roccia was boasting about his exploits at a local whorehouse. Zola’s expression grew stormy, clearly conerned as to just where one of his enforcers had gotten enough funds to afford such an exploit, but he nodded sharply as Bucky finished. “Very well.” He then strode off without a word, leaving Bucky a bit unnerved. 

That evening, Zola sent for Bucky. When he arrived at the Thiefmaker’s rooms, he was taken aback to see Antonio there as well. But before he could feel self-conscious about his unkempt appearance -- being fresh from the alleys of the city -- the older boy raised an eyebrow. “This is the mynah bird you were talking about, Thiefmaker? He’s attractive, yes, but what experience does he have?” 

Bucky was flustered both by the peremptory tone Antonio took with their leader as well as his words, but found himself replying in a similar manner. “I’ve had my own ‘busy and successful evenings’, believe it or not.” 

A small smirk joined Antonio’s raised eyebrow as Bucky realized the unintended innuendo. He’d simply meant to throw Antonio’s words back at him, not make a sexually charged statement. Zola gave them a stern look. “I need you both to focus on what I have to say. Belartigiano, this is Bucky. He’ll be your servant and an extra set of eyes and ears. Despite his youth, he’s got a good memory for facts and figures.” 

“I still suggest that you send three of us to the gala,” Antonio replied, maintaining his impertinent air. “Preferably someone with a bit of muscle that could create a diversion if things go awry.” He turned to Bucky. “Any suggestions, bright eyes?” 

Bucky felt his cheeks warming at Antonio’s casual endearment, even as he recalled the older boy’s reputation for flirting without intention. “What about Stefano, sir?” he suggested to the Thiefmaker. 

Zola snorted. “That lummox?” 

“He’s not a lummox!” Bucky protested. “He’s just quiet, and a bit clumsy, sometimes. Besides, he can draw sketches of the people who were there.” 

And at that, Zola raised an eyebrow. “Why was I not informed of this talent?” 

Bucky stifled the impulse to make an insolent reply about never having asked -- Antonio was clearly a bad influence -- instead shrugging. “I can’t say, sir.” 

Zola narrowed his eyes, as if sensing Bucky’s rebellious urge, but Antonio smoothly broke in. “If these two are what I have to work with, I’d like to test them out in a less fraught situation first. Perhaps Fortress Square tomorrow?”


End file.
